Red, Blue, Green
by TMBlue
Summary: COMPLETE! Ron's final night at Shell Cottage, before he follows the light...


**Red, Blue, Green**

He stood by the window, bright blue eyes searching the sky distractedly. Distant stars felt even more distant all of a sudden, hovering above him in a void he couldn't comprehend. It had to be tonight. It _must _be.

He'd been waiting for a sign, some hope or direction. And he'd received it. Not ten minutes ago. Coming out of his _pocket_.

He didn't care if she murdered him. He didn't mind. He'd welcome her hands clamped tight around his neck as he begged forgiveness, if he could manage to speak at all... if it meant he could see her again. He didn't want to plan a perfect speech. She had to know he'd changed, and that he understood all of the things he'd been too muddled to see clearly before now.

So, for what it was worth, he wanted her to know, whether from his own lips or from a hasty recording in the middle of the night...

He could die trying to find them. Easily.

He did feel somehow invincible, though he securely knew, buried deep down, that his life was as simple to end for those who really wanted to as it was for him to crush an ant beneath his trainer. He didn't feel particularly special, or brave, or strong. And for the first time, he didn't think a single one of those things really mattered.

He'd been lingering just off course of a perilous track for some time. Now, he'd set himself straight along it, and all he could think of was her. He must have known, through the connection of their souls, that _Harry _would forgive him. That no matter what, he hadn't lost _him_. But when it came to _her_, he couldn't be certain of anything.

_Why _couldn't he?

But then it had always been that way, and he'd often used it as his own personal excuse for the way he'd avoided telling her the truth. Back when he'd _had _the chance to do it.

So, yes. It had to be tonight, one way or another.

He turned away from the window and reached a freckled hand out to touch the cold metal of the camera that Bill had used at his wedding, originally part of his father's stock of whimsy, now residing at Shell Cottage, taken during the rush of excitement and terror during the wedding reception.

Bill had shown him how to use it a few days ago, before Ron had heard _her _voice inside his jeans, wondering for a moment if he'd truly, finally, lost it. But Bill hadn't known the reason for Ron's curiosity, thinking it simply a way to pass the time, to distract Ron from the automatic replay of that last night, the last moments with _them _before he'd left. But the truth was, he was scheming. And he knew if he never saw them again, he had a lot of things he had to say, somehow.

Weighing the camera in his palm, he sat on the edge of the bed and muttered a Lumos, turning the lens towards his own face. He checked the state of his clothing, squirming his shoulders and chest beneath his dark green jumper, tugging at the collar and clearing his throat. He had no idea what he was doing, what he was going to say. And that's exactly how he wanted it.

He pressed the button Bill had shown him, and a little red light blinked several times before pausing, shining menacingly back at him in the dimly lit room. He licked his lips, heart beating solidly, racing the quickened pace of his breathing as he opened his mouth to say...

"Hermione."

Well, it came out much easier than he'd thought, though his stomach churned, unaccustomed to acknowledging her after so much time apart.

"Blimey, but I should have done this years ago," he whispered, eyes staring deeply into the camera lens, as if he could really find her there, somewhere.

His hand shook against the camera, and he was forced to slide back into the bed, spine against the wall. He bent his knees and steadied the bottom of the camera against them, sighing deeply as his mind went blank. This was what he'd wanted, after all. No carefully crafted speeches, remember? And he nodded at no one, swallowing past the lump in his throat.

"I'm coming to find you," he said quietly, "and if I do, well, then you won't need this recording because I'll tell you myself. I promise you I will. But I guess that doesn't mean too much, just saying it to a camera. But now, this is proof."

He pressed his fingers against the side of his head, smoothing a bit of his hair in the process.

"When we were kids, I didn't really think about how things could change. Do people ever think about that then, really? Even now. Even that night when I left you. God, I didn't want to go. Please, I need you to believe me."

He blinked, allowing his eyes to remain shut for a bit too long, breathing deeply through his parted lips.

"This is such shit. You deserve so much more than this. I don't know what to do, Hermione," he whispered, focusing on a distant light within the lens. "Harry, you'll forgive me, won't you? Honestly, I'm more worried you'll feel sodding _guilty _if I die. That's you. But this is _my _fault. Everything will be _my _fault! Whatever happens. Because I'm the one who couldn't take it... I'm the one who ran away when you needed me."

He paused, and he could almost see Harry's large green eyes staring back into his.

"Harry... I know you aren't really in love with her."

A flash of uncertainly grazed by him as he blinked again. But the truth was, if things were as he'd feared - and he'd come a long way now in believing that they _weren't_ - he really didn't _want _to know about it. He wanted to believe, absolutely, that he'd been wrong. And he wasn't sure he could face the possibility of his own death without knowing. And he couldn't _know _now, could he? Because he'd left them. Alone. Together. So he had to tell _himself _what he needed to hear from _them_. In the end, _he _was all he had for company. His own heart, much too heavy, and his name spoken by the most beautiful voice in the world, still echoing in his ears, calling out to him, begging with only the sound of his own name, to do what he had to do.

He'd been silent too long, and he was sure now that his hesitation would become obvious if he couldn't continue, so he swallowed thickly again, and released another string of unplanned words...

"This isn't how I want this, really, but if I... if I die... I want you, Hermione, to know..."

He bit his lip, readjusting the camera on his knees. Oh, just forget sentence structure, smooth words and gentleness...

"Sod it. I'm in love with you, for fuck's sake. There. I've said it, blimey! Hermione, I love you. Is that clear enough?"

Somehow, through his rushed admission, he managed a grin. And before he could stop himself, he was laughing. He ran a shy hand through his hair, and his heart felt so much lighter, that it was almost making him dizzy.

"Wow," he chuckled. "Okay, that's done. There! You know. Well, you don't _really_. This bloody camera knows. But I'll tell you in person."

His stomach churned again, but with excited anticipation this time. And he couldn't wait to tell her face to face. To _see _her again.

"This is just a backup, really. In case my plan goes to shit," and he settled more comfortably against the wall, slouching slightly and switching the camera to his other hand for a break. "So, let's see. After I get back, I'd better give you a couple of weeks to brood before I try anything. Then, after you've... well, I won't say _forgiven _me because, Merlin, I couldn't blame you for dragging that out for... a few years? That's fair. But you'll let your guard down eventually, right? And you'll row with me again. And then I'll just say it. Okay?"

He nodded, very satisfied with this plan.

"Hey, I said I wasn't _going _to plan!" He grinned again, and he closed his eyes for too long again, pulling up an image of Hermione with him at the Burrow just before the wedding. Smiling. At him. He dragged his eyes open again and licked his lips. "Okay, I have to cut this short. Damn it, I miss you! I'm coming to find you. Right now."

He was ready to shut off the camera, to run towards that hovering light and begin his search. But a weight settled inside his chest again and he paused, index finger resting a centimetre away from that little red button...

"Hermione," he continued softly, "everything should have been different. And I'm so, so sorry for that. I wish I could know for sure that you're alright, then I wouldn't mind so much about..."

Death lingered at the end of his unfinished sentence, but he could almost feel her there with him, so close, and he didn't want her to know _this_. He danced around the truth and his own acceptance of it as if she was standing just on the other side of the lens, waiting.

"If... if I never see you again," and he gave the lens an apologetic look, putting every ounce of regret he could stir up into his gaze, "I need you to know... you have been, without a shred of doubt, the best part of me. There are so many things I couldn't have done without you, some of them unimportant now, maybe, after all we've been through. But what I really need to tell you, for you to understand, is that no matter what happens now... the bits that mattered the most were every single one of those seconds I spent with you. If anybody should ask who I was, I want you to tell them that."

He paused to readjust the camera one last time, sitting up away from the wall just slightly.

"I wish I'd done things differently, told you how I felt a long time ago. And yeah, I wish we could have had more time together. But you know... that sort of doesn't matter right now. I feel so fucking lucky to have had this many years to row with you."

He grinned again.

"And beat you at chess. And tease you for studying too hard. God, I sound like a prat."

He grinned a bit wider, envisioning her dark brown eyes rolling at his rather inelegant speech.

"But this is it. This is who I was, I guess. Maybe you and me were doomed to always be so close to something we couldn't quite have. But maybe it would have all been _too _good and it would have killed me anyway."

He nodded, chuckling again.

"Right. This is it. I heard you say my name inside my pocket. So I'm following whatever the hell that was and I feel really good about it, actually. Take care of Harry if I don't make it, right? I know you already are. I love you. I love you both, yeah? I'm coming for you."

Excitement rose again to his throat, and he turned the camera off, breathing and staring at it for a moment afterwards.

It was over. Nothing left to do. No more reasons to wait.

He stood from the bed, tucked the camera under his arm, and picked up his things, crossing through the doorway into the hall without looking back. When he reached the kitchen, he placed the camera in the centre of the table, tearing a piece of spare parchment from a stack on the counter and dipping a stray quill in an ink bottle to scribble a letter to Bill...

_If I never come back, give this to Hermione and Harry, when you see them next. Tell them I'm sorry._

He tucked the note against the side of the camera, straightened his shoulders, and walked through the front door into the crisp, winter air, salty and fresh with a seaside breeze. The choppy tide rolled against the sand and rocks beyond, and a little blue ball of light glowed mesmerizingly before him.

"I'm coming for you..." he whispered, and he stepped forward, into the light, and vanished.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN:** I don't know, I guess I have The Oneshot Fever? Just had this fic idea, popped in some Radiohead, and slammed my hands against the keyboard. I hope you enjoyed it! And just to explain a bit, in case you didn't know, red/blue/green are the additive primary colours of light, as used in the video recording process. And there are mentions of all three colours scattered through this story._

_Here's my inspiration..._

_When I'm at the pearly gates, this'll be on my videotape._  
><em>Mephistopheles is just beneath, and he's reaching up to grab me.<em>  
><em>This is one for the good days. I'll have it all here in red, blue, green.<em>  
><em>And you are my centre when I spin away, out of control on videotape.<em>  
><em>This is my way of saying goodbye, because I can't do it face to face.<em>  
><em>I'm talking to you before.<em>  
><em>No matter what happens now, you shouldn't be afraid.<em>  
><em>Because I know today has been the most perfect day I've ever seen.<em>  
><em>~"Videotape" by Radiohead<em>


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